Starry-Eyed Love (Spark House)

“Does this still run?” Jackson asks.

“Not at the moment, but we have plans to restore it, hopefully sooner rather than later.”

“It would be great for photos,” Jackson muses.

“Oh yes, absolutely.”

We pass through an archway, lilac bushes framing either side. Beyond the gardens is a massive expanse of green space, where we host the athletic component of some of our events.

On the right is the pool house, and to the left, a short distance away, is the barn. And far off in the distance are the mountains, the tips white with snow even though it’s June. It’s the most beautiful, peaceful view.

“This is an incredible property. Do you live here?”

“Not on site but we spent a lot of time here when we were growing up. It’s like a second home for us. When we took over the hotel for our grandmother, we considered living in the pool house, but felt it would be better to live off property, otherwise it would be hard to find a work-life balance. Harley and I have an apartment about twenty minutes away, close to the downtown area. It’s kind of like being between two different worlds. I get the serenity I love being here, but the separation I need from my work by living downtown.”

“I can understand not wanting to live where you work. It can be a challenge to separate the two.”

“It can. I try to leave work at work, but it’s not always easy. And when we have back-to-back events, it’s nearly impossible. What about you? Your home base is New York, but here you are in Colorado again. It can’t be easy to live out of a suitcase and a hotel room all the time.”

“I’m actually looking into buying a house in Colorado since we’re expanding and setting up an office here.”

“You’re planning to be here more often?” The possibility makes my insides all fluttery.

“I am. I like to oversee the setup of our new office, and I enjoy Colorado.”

“It really is beautiful.”

“It is.” He nods his agreement, eyes shifting away from me to the view of the mountains.

I show him around the rest of the property, stopping frequently to talk about the upcoming events we’re hosting and show him the props and pieces we’re assembling for one of Avery’s famous obstacle courses.

“This reminds me of a more user-friendly Survivor challenge,” Jackson says.

“In a lot of ways, it is. Avery loves that show more than is reasonable. She’s watched every single season.”

“Oh wow. Even the ones where things went downhill, and it became more of a model competition than a social experiment?” Jackson asks.

“Even those.” I chuckle. “She used to make us watch them with her. At least until she moved in with her fiancé. Now he gets to deal with it.”

“It’s not your favorite show, then?” Jackson asks.

“I don’t mind it. I even like some of the seasons, but I’ve watched them so many times, so often, I could definitely not watch it again for a while and be totally fine with that.”

Jackson laughs. “Fair. If Survivor isn’t your speed, what is?”

I shrug. “I don’t have a lot of time for TV, but when I do, I like craft and DIY videos. Usually, I watch instructional stuff on YouTube. I have a few channels I subscribe to.”

“Are you the creative one out of your sisters, then?” Jackson asks.

“I think we’re all creative in different ways. Avery’s excellent at organizing and coming up with cool ideas for events. She basically runs the show in that respect. I like the setup and design part and liaising with local companies who supply us with our event needs. Harley, our younger sister, is great with a camera and social media.”

“It seems like you’ve got it all covered. Are you in the middle of your sisters, then?”

I nod. “I am.”

“Does that make you the peacekeeper?”

“That’s more Harley’s role. I just try to find the balance between the two of them. I pick up the slack where I see it’s needed. What about you? Do you have any siblings?” In all my research about Jackson Holt, I didn’t find much about his family, apart from the fact that he lost his parents when he was in his early twenties due to illness.

He shakes his head, his smile suddenly a little stiff. “Nope. I’m an only child, but I have a very close friend named Trent who’s pretty much like a brother. We grew up together and he works with me now.”

“That must be a very special friendship, then.” I can’t imagine that it would be easy to lose your parents as an only child. All that stability suddenly gone. At least I had Harley and Avery to rely on, and my grandmother.

“It is. We grew up next door to each other when we lived in Lewiston.”

“And you stayed close all this time?” I remember reading an article about that. There had been issues with soil contamination in the house he spent his early childhood in. It’s strange to know so much about this man already, through tabloids and articles, but it makes me feel like a bit of a voyeur into his life. I don’t know how much I should or shouldn’t say.